Interrogation
by Pentype
Summary: What would have happened if James hadn't escaped Vladimir Obidin in The Fall? Graphic torture scenes.
1. Chapter 1

Consciousness returned slowly to James Adams. He felt hungover, although he didn't remember drinking. He was vaguely aware of being naked and cold so he reached for the blanket to cover himself with. His hands found nothing but cold concrete and his entire arm ached with the movement, from his shoulder down to his fingers.

He opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was and how he got there. It was pitch black wherever he was and he felt around with his hands for some clue as to where he was. His entire body hurt and he gained nothing from the effort apart from the knowledge that he was on a few square feet of concrete.

James lay still and relaxed, hoping the memories would come back to him if he stopped trying to force it. He'd been trying to watch a movie in the apartment and the power had gone out. After that there were only flashes of memories, gone too quickly to try to piece them together. There were other people and a gun pointed at him. That must mean the mission had gone terribly wrong.

A slow and painful crawl around the space he was in told him that he was in a small square room, probably around 10 feet in length. The walls were concrete like the floor and he couldn't feel a door. That wasn't a good sign. There might have been a trapdoor in the ceiling but his body was too broken to stand up and check.

Under normal circumstances, James would have been on his feet and searching for an exit. However, he was hurting too much and he was to exhausted to do anything other than to resign himself to his situation for the time being and try to get some rest and heal. He curled up into a ball and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time James woke up there was light. Harsh, white, blinding light coming from a trapdoor in one corner of his concrete box. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes, the brightness burning even through his eyelids. He groaned harder as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position. His whole body ached even worse than the last time he woke, if that were even possible. He must have taken quite a beating.

"Get up," a gruff male voice ordered in Russian. James rolled slowly onto his hands and knees and tried to push himself up. He almost made it but then stumbled. He managed to stop himself falling over but couldn't stand; he ended up crouching.

Someone kicked him up the backside and he fell forwards again. He managed to bring his hands up to protect his face but skinned his palms and wrists on the floor. A pair of hands on each side lifted him roughly and painfully to his feet and bundled him up a ladder through the trapdoor.

James's eyes had adjusted to the light but his body would need longer before he would feel normal. He scrambled up through the trapdoor and tried, with more success this time, to stand. There was still pain but the Russians would hurt him anyway. If he was going to suffer, he wanted it to be on his own terms at least.

He tried to walk as normally as possible as his captors led him down a damp, narrow corridor. James ran a hand along one of the walls as they passed and it felt like the same concrete his cell was made from. Unlike his cell, the corridor was lit, by naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling. There were bolted metal doors all the way down the corridor and judging from the spacing the rooms within were not much bigger than the cell James had been kept in. Occasionally they walked over another trapdoor. He listened out for any sounds from behind the doors but either he was the only prisoner or all the cells were soundproofed.

At the end of the corridor, there was a door similar to the ones all down the corridor but without a bolt. One of the Russians pulled it open and the three of them filed through. They entered a large room with more doors around the edge. In the middle was a rectangular table with a chair on either side. James noticed that the furniture was bolted to the floor.

His captors led him over to one of the chairs and pushed his shoulders to make him sit down. Taking the weight off his feet was a relief but the chair was plastic and cold on his bare skin. The table was made of wood and covered in scratches. There were holes drilled in various places around the surface. Four of the holes were put to use now, looping thin rope through to tie his wrists to the table.

James was left alone in the room. He began to panic, his mind running through all the possibilities of what could happen to him here. He guessed that was the purpose of leaving him to his thoughts and tried to distract himself but thinking of Lauren and Kerry only made him feel worse as he imagined their reactions to the news that he was missing and the possibility of never seeing either of them again.


End file.
